Intimacy
by T.S. Atlas
Summary: Something was wrong between the two Yordles. Veigar knew nothing of it, he never felt comfortable with intimacy, but, what they did...how will he fix it, if it can even be fixed at all?


**_A/N:_ **Well, first off, I'd like to apologize for not updating my other project, Heroes Never die. Have been busy, but, I will continue it, so please, for now, take this as an apology, something I wrote today. I hope you do enjoy, and please, tell me what you think of it. I hope you all are well. Take care.

Intimacy

He went to the window, throwing the curtains back, expecting to greet with the calmness of the night sky only to be blinded by the shining sun. He shut his eyes tightly, closing the curtains and stumbling back into the darkness of his room. His nocturnal eyes, glowing an eerie yellow, adjusted back to the darkness. On the ground of his room lay old priceless tomes thrown about haphazardly. It had been far longer than he expected, needless to say. When he would drown himself in studying more of the dark magic he believed would further increase his strength, time seemed nonexistent. He crawled into bed, keeping his metal gauntlets on, as he always did. They were a part of him, they hid his ugly and disfigured hands.

No one but her.

He shook away the voice in his head. He was once tortured, once left to the darkness, all alone. That is why he choose to hide his face, why he covered his hands. He had changed, he was scarred. Sleep took him, but not without a fight, as he lay there tossing and turning. He felt restless, just unable to calm down.

But what made him so restless? His mind felt numb, he couldn't recall off the top of his head. Something flustered him, something upset him and made him angry. There were times when he would get so entranced in his studies that he would miss meals until she came to remind him to eat which he did so begrudgingly. Before, when she wouldn't come, when she wasn't a part of the league, he would spend days and nights lost within the ancient and runic texts. He knew he didn't spend a single night in his chambers, he must have spent much longer. Why had she not come to get him, then?

His body, void of strength, started to slip off into sleep. He began to remember. She was part of it.

It had been so long since last he was summoned, it felt almost nostalgic as eyes adjusted to the light, only to be greeted with the sight of Summoner's Rift. She was with him, although, she was going top lane. She smiled at him, that same childish smile she always gave, but when she gave it to him, it felt more warm and genuine. She annoyed him greatly, but, it mattered not. He learned long ago that the only way to deal with the sorceresses was to just put up with her, and so, he did so begrudgingly.

Somewhere along the way, however, she took an interest in him. She said it was because he had no other friends that she wanted so badly to be with him. No one deserves to be alone, her exact words were. But she was a fool. Better to be alone than to be hurt by those you surround yourself by. He was betrayed, he was hurt, and he was left for dead. He didn't need anyone else.

Funny, how now that he noticed her absence, he was annoyed rather than relieved. In a way, he had gotten used to her nonsense and whimsical nature.

All the lanes had been losing. The enemy Rengar had a huge presence around the map, ganking top and bottom many time, but Veigar played smart, knowing when to go on the offensive and when to sit back and stack his Baleful Strike, using wards unsparingly and having Event Horizon at the ready. All attempts made by Rengar failed. Essentially, mid lane had become a dull affair, the enemy Ahri trying her best to poke him down when she could, but she was hesitant. Unfortunately for her, Veigar wasn't.

Having stacked his Baleful Strike and achieving a Death Fire Grasp, Veigar focused more on harassment, using his main spell against Ahri while dropping Dark Matter on the waves of minions, pushing it. He got the notification that Rengar was near, and stealthed. They could not see the smirk he wore beneath his cap. Laying down a Vision Ward, he was able to spot Rengar, stunning him and Ahri both in Event Horizon with superb positioning of his spell.

"Double Kill," rang throughout the field. However, the score was 2-7. Having returned to base, he could see how much the sorceress was struggling in the top lane. A part of him felt angry. He became more offensive, taking his lead and snowballing it against the enemy Ahri, roaming the map as fast as was possible for one of his size, and began to reap havoc.

It had been a long time since he was summoned, since he fought here on the Fields of Justice. Everyone else was at their end, but Veigar carried them in the match. He felt triumphant as they left, a smug sneer on his lips as she hung to his arm. She was ecstatic, truly happy for him. Maybe that is why he was weak.

She spent time with him after the match, but, she wasn't annoying to him as per usual. Or, maybe she was and he just didn't mind. They were both in such a good mood. Or maybe, she watched herself around him, knowing not to ruin things for him. Either way, Veigar, was content.

But even so, even if they were in such a good mood, that is no excuse. They crossed a line, that night. One that should never have been crossed. Veigar left her after that. He couldn't bare look at her, and when she woke up, she found herself alone.

She tried to come to him, to act like nothing had happened, but there was something wrong with Veigar. He acted more coldly to her, when he snapped, he was more aggressive in the way he spoke, but she came back to him all the same, with tears in her eyes like some lost puppy dog. She tried day after day, but after that night, there was no turning back. Her words still haunted him.

"I love you."

His eyes opened. It had been weeks after that night. She followed him around for two weeks, but nothing was ever the same, and that was when he locked himself away from the rest of the world. Looking at the half moon, he could see that it had been another two weeks, or near enough.

He sighed, getting out of bed. He pulled his robe, moth-eaten and midnight blue, tighter around his body as he felt a chill. He exited his chambers. Even in the dead of night, summoners were sure to be waging battle on the Rift.

He went to the institutes lobby, where many viewing portals were open at all times to spectate matches. Champions were allowed rest, it was their right, but, on the rift, magic would have them rejuvenated. One could stay awake for days on end and be about to collapse, only to be energized while on the rift.

She was a more popular champion nowadays, so he expected to see her, but she was nowhere to be found on any of the portals. A pit was forming in his stomach. He realized he was worried for her, and that fact only bothered him immensely. He turned, seeing other summoners watching the matches through some of the portals.

He approached one, but, when none seemed to notice, his loud and crackly voice caught their attention. "You!" he said to no one in particular, "Where is the purple one at!?"

A summoner approached him, an elder gentlemen, wearing the traditional plain robes as all the others did. "I'm afraid Lulu was deemed unfit for battle, and as such, she has been disabled for summoning across all fronts."

Without thanking him, Veigar turned, his robe snapping at his sudden movements as he stormed out of the lobby, leaving the summoners to resume their spectating.

That damn yordle, he thought to himself. He was annoyed, extremely so. It was just his nature. Nothing rubbed him the right way, it seems, not even his own feelings.

He trudged the numerous halls of the institute, reaching his destination, a large door standing before him. His hand went to it, knocking furiously, the sound of it only amplified by the metal gauntlets he never removed. He kept knocking, relentlessly, until finally the door creaked open. And there she stood.

Lulu. She stood, just shorter than him, wrapped in the cream covers of her bed, her purple hair a mess, tangled and knotted. Her emerald eyes seemed to have lost their shine, and the whites of her eyes were bright red, dried tears lining her face. Her eyes opened wide at seeing him stand there.

"Veigar…" Her voice was hoarse. He pushed the door more open, going in on his own, moving past the shocked yordle that stood there. He turned to look at her after the door had closed, his yellow eyes burning in anger. "Um…hey…" she said, weekly, which elicited only a sigh from him.

"Is this where you have been this entire time?" he asked, his annoyance present in his tone. She looked down, glumly, nodding as she hummed her response of yes. There was a short pause. Honestly, Veigar did not know what to do. He came here, he saw her. She looked miserable, but, he didn't know what to do. Wordlessly, he made to the door, only to feel her hand on his arm as he reached for the handle.

He turned to see Lulu standing there, fighting back tears.

"Veigar…can you…stay for a little…" she choked. She led him to the bed, where, they sat. Veigar hated being alone, but this, this awkwardness, he hated it infinitely more. After some more irksome silence, she decided to speak, her voice very weak. "I'm…not allowed to participate anymore…they told me…that I couldn't…not for a while…"

"I heard," was the only response he gave her.

She looked at him surprised. "Did they tell you why?" He gave a gruff "No," not bothering to explain that he left before any explanation could be given to him. The expression she wore was a strange mixture of relief and fear.

She tried to hold in her sobs unsuccessfully, making disgusting noises as she sniffled, tears falling now on their own.

"Why did you leave me?" she asked quietly.

He gave no response, leaving her to silently cry. When he did open his mouth, what came out was a weighted sigh. "You are an idiot," he said, much to her dismay, but he said it tiredly. She didn't say anything else, but instead, let him take his time. She knew him all too well. When he gets like this…Veigar wasn't good at opening up. He was rude, mean, crabby, but there was a reason for it all.

"There was a time when I once thought I had friends…then they hurt me…they left me some place cold and dark…I'm not who I once was all those years ago." He rubbed his hands, his gauntlets clinking slightly as he did.

She laid her hands on his, ceasing his motions. "But I would never hurt you…so…why, Veigar…why…"

"Because I was afraid I would hurt YOU," he snapped, stunning her silent. "You think, after everything I had gone through, I would be ready for something so…intimate?"

"But…but…" she stuttered.

His voice came out softly, tiredly. "After everything that happened to me…I don't know HOW to be that way…to hold you close with…these…" he held out his hands, beneath the metal, mangled. "I don't want to be hurt…that's why I would rather be alone…but even with who I am now…you accept me…you are the only one…Lulu…" he called her by name for the first time, prompting her to choke back her sobbing. "I wouldn't want to hurt you like they once did me," he finished.

She threw her arms around him, crying, letting all her tears and sobs out. He stiffened at her touch, not used to this closeness. He placed a hand on the top of her head as she buried her face in his lap, soaking his robes in tears and snot.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, over and over again, trembling as she held tightly onto him.

Veigar felt the pit in his stomach deepen. It was his fault, he knew. He should apologize. It was because he was so scared of hurting her that he ended up doing just that.

"I'm sorry for loving you, Veigar…please…forgive me…"

"No," he replied coldly. She looked up, shock written on her face. "I won't forgive you, not ever. I can't say those words, I can't feel that way, but I know this. What I hate most of all is not having you by my side. I don't know what to do, I just…don't…but you…don't you dare apologize for that, you stupid girl!"

She was stunned in amazement. Sometimes, the things he said were hurtful, and sometimes, he surprised her with how much he showed her of himself, and although it was not much, she knew just how much it took for him to say those words to him. It was a start. Slowly but surely.

She could see those days, long ago, when he was alone, and she wanted nothing more than to put a smile on his face. She hadn't accomplished that, not yet. But she still wanted that. She laid back into his lap, silent, for once.

"Would it…would it be okay if…I stay together with you…"

"Of course," he said harshly. Subtlety was not his strong suit. But that was why she loved him. He didn't know intimacy, he didn't know subtlety and he had only known pain and loneliness. He never smiled, he was always rude and abrasive, he hid his emotions, but when he spoke, he did it with such power, that even though his tone was prickly, it was also sweet. It was something no one could understand, but, she understood him. She took the time to understand, she took the time to accept him. She loved him because he could make her smile. The way he acted was so…childish. It made her smile for no particular reason, it made her feel comfortable with him, and above all, she found it cute of him.

He didn't move while she still lay on him. Although he felt uncomfortable like this, to him, it felt much better than anything else. He could, at the very least, try. Her voice was still hoarse from all the crying, but she spoke, her voice quiet as a mouse's squeak.

"Veigar…" she began. He acknowledged her with an "Hmm."

"I'm pregnant."

He let out a sigh.

She felt nervous at his response. "W-what do we do?"

He put his hand on her cheek, stroking it as gentle as he could what with his gauntleted hands, looking into her emerald eyes, an action that took her off guard, making her blush vibrantly.

"I don't know. I guess, we'll have to see what happens."

She nodded.

She kissed his fingers lightly, and although he could not feel the action, he took note of it all the same. She closed her eyes and dozed off right there, still on his lap.

He had already slept. Now, it was time for her to get some rest. And when she would open her eyes, he would be there, having not moved, having watched over her all through the night.

He owed her that much.


End file.
